


I Can't Let My Heart Give In

by wallywestie



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallywestie/pseuds/wallywestie
Summary: “Hi, Haru!” Haruka could hear the smile in his voice, but he could also sense the disappointment in his tone. Haruka didn’t say anything, waiting for Makoto to continue. “Ah, Haru, I won’t be able to make it for dinner tonight, our project is going longer than I expected and I don’t think we’ll be done for another few hours. I’m sorry, Haru.”“Okay,” was all Haruka said, his voice neutral. Makoto was quiet for a few moments on the other end, no doubt knowing that Haruka was upset, but didn’t say anything.“We’ll reschedule soon, okay? I promise.”“Okay,” Haru repeated.“I have to go, Haru. Get home safe!”“Bye,” Haru replied, before he heard the line go dead.  Haru stared at his screen, the messaging app still open on his conversation with Makoto. The last message received was from Makoto that morning wishing Haruka luck on his test, as well as expressing how excited he was to see him that night.There was a strange feeling in Haru’s chest as he read the message over and over again. Something almost painful and uncomfortable. He scowled, pushing the feeling away and turning off his phone.





	I Can't Let My Heart Give In

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first hanahaki disease work and I'm a big fan of them so I figured why not give it try myself? Hope I did It justice!
> 
> if you want to see more from me, follow me on twitter or Tumblr @wallywestie

Haruka wasn’t one for affection. Never really was, even when he was a child. That didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate it when it was given to him when he was younger. Like when he would be watching one of his favourite movies in the living room, and after cleaning up from dinner, his mother would join him, pulling him onto her lap and holding him close.

Or when his grandmother used to run her hand through his hair as he did his homework and she read her book.

Or when he slept over at Makoto’s and Makoto would hold his hand or hold the hem of Haruka’s shirt as they slept.

Haruka never sought out affection on his own, but when it was given to him, he didn’t reject it.

But that was a long time ago and now Haruka had his own apartment and he rarely saw his parents. His grandmother passed away when he was in middle school and though Makoto lived in Tokyo with him, they didn’t see each other as often. Between school, part time jobs and Haruka’s swimming, finding time for each other was getting harder and harder.

Haruka hadn’t seen Makoto in almost three weeks and, though it doesn’t seem very long, for Haruka it almost felt like an eternity. He used to see Makoto almost every day, and now, he was lucky to see him more than once a week.

Haruka sat in front of his locker, his towel hanging off his head as he pulled his phone out of his bag. He and Makoto were supposed to have dinner together after his practice, and he was about to text him to let him know he was done but frowned slightly when he saw the aforementioned calling him. Haruka had a feeling it was to cancel their plans. Makoto wouldn’t call him to let him know he was waiting outside, knowing Haruka would just see the text as he gathered his things. Haruka let it ring for a few moments, debating if he should ignore it and just tell Makoto later that his phone had died, but decided against it and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Haru!” Haruka could hear the smile in his voice, but he could also sense the disappointment in his tone. Haruka didn’t say anything, waiting for Makoto to continue. “Ah, Haru, I won’t be able to make it for dinner tonight, our project is going longer than I expected and I don’t think we’ll be done for another few hours. I’m sorry, Haru.”

“Okay,” was all Haruka said, his voice neutral. Makoto was quiet for a few moments on the other end, no doubt knowing that Haruka was upset, but didn’t say anything.

“We’ll reschedule soon, okay? I promise.”

“Okay,” Haru repeated.

“I have to go, Haru. Get home safe!”

“Bye,” Haru replied, before he heard the line go dead. Haru stared at his screen, the messaging app still open on his conversation with Makoto. The last message received was from Makoto that morning wishing Haruka luck on his test, as well as expressing how excited he was to see him that night.

There was a strange feeling in Haru’s chest as he read the message over and over again. Something almost painful and uncomfortable. He scowled, pushing the feeling away and turning off his phone.

~

Haru sat at his kitchen table, doodling in his sketchbook. He didn’t have anything particular in mind he wanted to draw. He was more so doing it to rid the tension in his body. For some unknown reason, Haru was particularly tense and nothing was helping. He had gone for a swim, that didn’t help. He sat in the bath for a while, that also didn’t help and now he was drawing, hoping that it would help. But as he continued to draw, it seemed it was just getting worse. Especially when he realized what, or more of who he was drawing.

It was Makoto. It was simple, and a scene he had drawn before. It was a portrait of the younger, his eyes bright, but a soft smile on his face. Haru even noticed that he had added the freckles that littered the tops of his cheeks. He looked at the picture, the feeling he felt in the locker room last week arising again, but with more intensity and, suddenly, Haru felt like he couldn’t breath. It almost felt as if there was something caught in his throat. The longer he stared at the picture, the worse that feeling became, and before long, he couldn’t handle it anymore and started coughing roughly into his hands.

His coughing wasn’t subsiding, despite his efforts to stop it. He stood up, knocking his sketchbook down as he doubled over, a hand on his stomach, the other covering his mouth. It wasn’t until minutes later that it finally stopped, and he could breathe again. And when he went to wash his hands was when he noticed the white and pink camellia petals. He watched in shock as the petals fell down the drain, his sudden chest pains and the tight feeling in his throat suddenly making sense.

He had Hanahaki disease, and Makoto was the cause.

Haruka was in love with Makoto.

~

Haruka’s grandmother told him about Hanahaki before. She had been telling one of her many stories that she always told him to teach him certain things about the world. Like how she used to tell him it didn’t matter what others thought of him; the only opinion that mattered was his own and if others couldn’t accept him for himself, then they weren’t worth his time. When first hearing this lesson, Haru’s mind had instantly gone to Makoto, and when he’d told his grandmother that he loved Makoto, she smiled softly and told him that he was someone Haruka wanted to stay by his side. His grandmother could always tell who was good for Haru and who wasn’t.

But when she told him about Hanahaki disease, Haruka had been only seven. The only reason it had been brought up was because they’d been walking around their neighbourhood when he had seen a father playing with his son in a kiddie pool, and Haru noticed a scar on his back that seemed to stretch to his front. Now, Haru wasn’t one to ask questions, especially about others, but this scar was so peculiar that he needed to know what might have caused it. He still remembered how the conversation went,

_“What’s that scar?” Haruka asked, pointing towards the man. He watched as his grandmother looked towards where he was pointing, and he saw a frown appear on her face._

_“That’s from a very specific surgery, Haruka.”_

_“What do you mean, granny?” She was silent for the few minutes it took them to walk back to the house, before she took a seat on the front step, motioning for Haru to stand in front of her. He did what she asked, looking at her curiously as she placed her hand on his chest lightly._

_“Haruka, that man you saw had a surgery to remove flowers from his chest, heart and throat.” Haru didn’t say anything, trying to put together what she’d told him. “It’s called Hanahaki disease. It’s caused by unrequited love, or one-sided love. It happens when someone loves another person very much and they believe it’s one-sided.”_

_“But why were there flowers in him?”_

_“Well, Hanahaki disease causes flowers to grow inside you and it starts deep in your lungs,” she pointed to where his lungs were, “and then it continues to spread up through the throat and eventually the heart. It starts with coughing up petals at first, and eventually it turns into fully bloomed flowers.”_

_“Is it painful?”_

_“Very.”_

_“How do you get it to stop?”_

_“There’s only three ways. Having the surgery, which that man had. But if you remove it, you’re not only removing your feelings for that person, but you’re also removing all your memories of and with them.” Haru scrunched up his face, not liking that._

_“I don’t like that. What are the other ways?”_

_“Well, if the love isn’t one-sided and the other person feels the same, it goes away once they tell them.” Haruka’s grandmother smiled softly, before continuing, “and finally, the third way is that the disease takes over and the person dies.” Haru looked away at that, not wanting to hear anymore. His grandmother cupped his cheek softly, turning his head so he faced her again._

_“I hope you never have to experience that, my little guppy.” She kissed the top of his head lightly before standing up and patting that same spot, “now, why don’t you go and see what Makoto is doing. I’m sure he would love to see you.”_

Haruka never asked about it again until he was 11 and wanted to know more, since he’d seen a similar scar one day at the beach. His main question had been how long the person had before they either died or had to get the surgery. She had told him that there was no definite answer as some had lived with it for years, while others only had months, or in rare cases, weeks.

Haruka hoped he was one of the lucky few who had years. He couldn’t dare think of removing it. Makoto was the most important person to him, and he couldn’t bear losing the memory of him. It would break Makoto’s heart, and that was the last thing Haru wanted.

Haru wanted years so Makoto could feel the same, or he could spend as long as possible with the other before the disease took its toll.

Haru hoped he was one of the lucky few.

~

Haru pulled himself out of the pool, accepting the towel from his teammate and pulling off his head cap and goggles.

“You were great out there, Nanase,” his teammate mentioned as the two of them began to walk towards the locker room.

“Thanks,” Haru muttered. He personally knew that he could do much better, and he knew that if Azuma was here, he would have criticized him about it as well. Recently, Haruka hadn’t been able to perform how he used to, and he had a feeling that it was because of his recently developed illness.

If he was thinking about Makoto for too long, especially in an affectionate or loving way, his throat would begin to hurt, breathing would start to become harder to do, and soon, he’d find himself doubled over, coughing into his hands roughly. Or if he was swimming, and he began thinking of when the two of them used to swim together (which happened more often than not), he would lose himself and stop mid stroke and began coughing violently. He would try to stop it, but that would just make it worse and he would have to get out of the water to try to make it stop. Most of the time, during practices, he tried to avoid thinking of Makoto and tried to stay focussed on the water and nothing else.

The water used to be his solitude; it used to be the place he went to lose himself in his mind, whether it was full of turmoil or to simply relax, but now, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Makoto was always somewhere in his thoughts and there was always a slight itch in his throat.

Makoto was constantly on his mind and it was hurting Haruka in more ways than one. He couldn’t swim like he used to, and more than he liked to admit, he was coughing into his hands.

One thing Haru knew for sure was that it was getting worse, and it was getting worse fast.

Haruka opened his locker, pulling out his clothes and changing quickly. He was exhausted and wanted to just go home, make some mackerel and try not to cough up more flowers. He scowled at the memory of him this morning, doubled over his kitchen sink, coughing up 3 bright yellow, fully bloomed Jonquils. He had been reading over the text Makoto sent him, wishing him a good day and practice when it happened. Haru had felt the all too familiar feeling of losing his breath and something trying to escape through his throat, and sooner than ever before, he was coughing violently and stumbling to the sink to get some water. And when he was done, his throat dry and sore, he noticed the 3 yellow flowers and turned away before throwing them in the garbage and heading off to school.

Haru slammed his locker closed after grabbing his things and left the room, ignoring the goodbyes from his teammates.

“Haru! Hey! Haru!” Haru looked up quickly at the all too familiar voice, his eyes widening. It was Makoto. He was only a few feet away, waving with a huge smile on his face, his school bag hanging off his shoulder and a takeout bag in his hand.

They hadn’t seen each other in almost 2 weeks and him suddenly being there made Haruka’s heart pound. He took a deep breath before making his way towards his best friend. Haru hadn’t seen Makoto since his hanahaki had started to get worse. He’d been able to hide it from Makoto before, but with the way things were now, he wasn’t sure he could still hide it as well.

“Hi.” Haru smiled small at the taller man, not being able to help himself. It’d been so long since they’d seen each other, and if the takeout bag he was holding was an indication of anything, Makoto was coming over.

“Hey,” Makoto replied, his smile softening, but no less genuine. That was one of the things Haru loved about Makoto. He was generally a happy person and smiled at everyone, but some smiles were only reserved for Haruka, and this was one of them. It was kind of small, but it reached his eyes, and it usually followed a greeting or goodbye. Haruka yearned for those smiles, especially these days, with how little they got to see each other.

He craved Makoto’s attention. He used to get it constantly, and now he was lucky if he got it more than twice a week. Haruka wasn’t one for affection and attention, but when it came to Makoto, especially recently, he was starved for it.

“I finished class early today, and don’t have much to do this weekend, so I was thinking that we could spend it together? We’ve both been busy recently and haven’t been able to see each other,” Makoto added afterwards, lifting the food slightly, as if to emphasize his point. “Would that be alright, Haru?” Haruka just nodded, feeling the itchiness in his throat again, afraid that if he tried to speak, he would begin coughing again. Makoto smiled wider at him before they began to make their way to the train station.

Haruka hoped he would make it through the weekend without Makoto finding out.

~

Haruka laughed slightly as he watched Makoto attempt to warm up their rice; his best friend had been doing well until he tried to stir it and ended up knocking over some of Haru’s spices into it, as well as managing to drop the spoon on the ground.

“Ah sorry, Haru-chan! I might have ruined the rice,” Makoto fretted, stepping out of the way to allow Haru to take over.

“It’s okay,” Haru responded, taking Makoto’s spot, and trying to salvage their meal, but before he could do anything, Haruka started to feel that all too familiar feeling in his chest and throat. This couldn’t happen, not now, not with Makoto standing right behind him. His body couldn’t possibly wait until Makoto was out of the room? Or when they went to bed?

Haruka didn’t want Makoto to find out; he didn’t want the other to be worried for him. So, he tried to suppress it. He listened to Makoto talk about his day at school, staying silent in fear that if he said something, then he wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore.

But sadly for Haruka, the universe had other plans and suddenly he was choking, and he was coughing roughly.

“Haru? Haru!? Are you okay?” Haru couldn’t answer, too busy coughing small yellow petals into his hands. “Let me get you some water!” He heard Makoto rush around to the cupboards, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, before holding it out in front of Haru. “Haru! Here, take a drink.”

Haru grabbed the glass, attempting to take a drink, but before he could, everything just got worse. There was a tight pressure in his chest; he could physically feel the flower growing its way out of his throat. He dropped to the floor, the glass shattering beside him as he began coughing and hacking, blood and sunflower petals falling with every cough. Tears were falling from his eyes from the intensity of it all. He couldn’t breathe. He could distantly hear Makoto panicking in the background, a muffled voice asking Haru who it was, asking him how long he had had it, and where the closest hospital was. Haruka wanted to answer all of those, but he couldn’t. All he could do was try to get the flower out of his throat without losing consciousness. His throat was sore; his eyes were watering, and black dots were beginning to dance in his sight.

All he could hear was his own coughing and the last thing he saw before everything went black was Makoto - frantic on the phone - and a big, slightly bloody sunflower.

~

When Haru woke up, he wasn’t in his own room. This room had a sterile smell, as if it’d been cleaned too often. The bed he was in wasn’t very comfortable and the hospital gown he was wearing was slightly itchy. It was dark out when he looked towards the window and the room was silent besides the beeping of the machine he was hooked up to, and the small snores coming from his right. He looked over and saw Makoto sitting in the chair, his head resting on the edge of Haru’s bed.

Haru frowned, scratching Makoto’s scalp. He’d probably scared Makoto to his wit’s end and now would have to explain what had happened once the younger woke up. Haru wished Makoto didn’t witness what he did. He didn’t plan for Makoto to find out so soon; he thought he had more time.

Haru’s quiet moment wasn’t long before he started coughing again, his hands falling from Makoto’s head to cover his own mouth. He tried to quiet it, not wanting to wake Makoto but it was impossible; Haruka couldn’t stop it anymore, and he watched as Makoto woke up suddenly,

“Haru? Haru, who is it? I can’t stand to see you like this,” Makoto cried, rubbing his back slightly. “Just tell me who it is, so I can help you. Please, Haru,” Makoto begged, and Haru wanted to tell him it was him, but he just couldn’t get the breath to do it. His coughing wouldn’t let up for him to even utter a sound. Makoto would have to figure it out himself.

“Is it Rin?” Makoto asked suddenly. Haru shook his head violently. “Okay, not Rin. One of your teammates maybe?” Haru shook his head again, taking one of Makoto’s hands and squeezing it, hoping he would get it. He hoped Makoto would. He didn’t want to lose Makoto; he didn’t want to leave Makoto to himself. He didn’t want to forget Makoto and he didn’t want to die yet; he desperately hoped Makoto felt the same and got what he was trying to convey.

Haru felt Makoto squeeze his hand back before the other was cupping his face, making him look into his eyes, and suddenly, Haruka could see it. He could see the love in Makoto’s eyes. He could see the sparkle in them, and Haruka could finally breathe again. The feeling in his throat was subsiding and he could finally breathe properly again.

“It’s me, isn’t it, Haru-chan?” Makoto asked, stroking his cheek lightly, wiping one the stray tears that fell during his coughing fit.

“Yes,” Haru breathed out. He could breathe again; Haruka could breathe again.

Haru watched the smile appear on Makoto’s face, before the other was coming closer, their foreheads resting together before he quietly spoke, “I love you too, Haru-chan,” before he closed the distance between them.

Haru couldn’t believe this was finally happening. Makoto was kissing him, and it wasn’t a dream. Makoto was right here in front of him and when he opened his eyes, Makoto would still be there; he wouldn’t disappear.

“You should have told me sooner, Haru,” Makoto said once they pulled away. Haru looked away, a common habit of his. “You really scared me, Haru. I thought I was going to lose you.” Haru turned back towards him, pushing some hair out of his face,

“I’m sorry.” Makoto shook his head, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Haru didn’t reply. He simply kissed the other again, pulling him closer.

A few minutes later, when the nurse came in and saw the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms on Haru’s bed, whispering between each other, she waited a few more minutes before letting the doctor know Haruka was better.

She was glad this Hanahaki case ended better than the last one she’d had.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
